


Honey, honey

by captainhurricane



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Disaster Gay Keith, Disaster gay Shiro, Keith's uncles have had enough, M/M, MINOR Allurance, Mall AU, Meddling Friends, More tags to be added, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, kosmo is a good boy, they're both oblivious af, they're both salespeople
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-07-27 17:21:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16223753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhurricane/pseuds/captainhurricane
Summary: Love at first sight isn't a myth or the saga of shared looks and pining that drives everybody crazy.





	1. It’s hard to look right at you baby

**Author's Note:**

> title from ABBA.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith has a perfectly nice life. He just wasn't aware he was going to end up in the starring role of a romantic comedy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "but revy what about your other WIPs"  
> "what WIPs"  
> "those in your acc-"  
> "THERE ARE NO OTHER WIPs"
> 
> chapter title from Call Me Maybe by Carly Rae Jepsen. (sue me for listening to cutesy pop while writing cutesy fluff <3)

Keith’s always been accused of having little imagination. Keith likes to say he’s a realist instead: what use is dreaming too big? He likes where he is. Although his mother, when she comes by, loves to meddle too much and his father, whenever he tags along, keeps ruffling Keith’s hair like he was still six. 

 

He’s twenty-five, thank you very much. 

 

He moans about this to Kosmo, his trusty mixed breed Certified Good Boy, the size of a small pony and with a golden heart too good for this world. Kosmo licks his face and lets out a soft _arf._

 

Keith is good where he is, he dreams about space and stars and the little things, like his mom’s hugs and sleepovers and movie marathons with his friends or the bear hugs one of his uncles love to give him. 

 

So maybe Keith didn’t mean to end up working at Altean Mall, at a pet supply store Kits & Pups - _Big Or Small, Kitty or Puppy, We Have It All!_ \- but this is where he ended up, under the watchful eye of his oldest uncle Kolivan. Kolivan is a war veteran, grizzled like an old bear and with a truckload of secrets and a long life Keith will never know in full but his eyes light up for Kosmo just as Keith’s do. 

 

And Krolia, Keith’s fierce, loving mother, loves her oldest big brother as much as she loves the rest of her rag-tag family. So Keith loves him too. It helps that Kolivan has let Kosmo be the unofficial store mascot and Kosmo has taken to that role very well. He never gets too excited about any of the canine customers, merely sniffles them when he can and sits like the Good Boy he is by Keith whenever he’s manning the till. Kosmo usually trails after Keith whenever someone else is manning the till: even if it is uncle Thace or their chipper, snarky part-timer Romelle. 

 

Keith had found Kosmo, abandoned by the city planetarium when he had been just a tiny puppy. The two had struck an immediate friendship and now are completely inseparable.

 

Most of Keith’s clothes are covered in dog hair that he at least tries to keep clean. His hair keeps growing longer and shaggier, matching his dog’s fur. Keith talks more to Kosmo than he talks to people. It suits him just fine. 

It’s Kosmo who’s the first to witness Keith’s jaw dropping to the floor. They’d known about a new store opening across theirs for weeks now: something about clothes and lots of zeros on the price tags. So Keith hadn’t really paid attention. He’d distantly noticed the mannequins being set up, the silver logo placed above the doorway, lots and lots of sleek blue and steel grey and inky black on the shelves.

 

It’s the guy that had gotten Keith’s attention, made him stare for so long that Kosmo had had to lick his cheek in order to snap him out of it. 

 

Keith isn’t blind or deaf to attractive people but the guy, this fucking guy - the first is the build, straight black pants, absurdly tight on his ass, white dress shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A sleek silver prosthetic shines under the bright lights. 

 

But not as bright as the guy’s smile. 

 

As far as Keith knows, Silver Space will officially open tomorrow. If this guy is a salesman or the owner or both, Keith is going to be in trouble. 

 

The Greek God across the walkway from Keith slides his fingers through snow-white hair and talks with another dress shirt guy that Keith barely notices. 

 

Greek God’s eyes snap to Keith. 

 

Keith’s cheeks colour. He waves.

 

Greek God smiles brightly and waves back. 

 

*

* 

 

Kits&Pups has been on the first floor of the shopping center for three years. By that time, they have gathered a trusty amount of regular customers and all of the employees know where to get the best lunch (Vrepit Sal’s), best dessert (Golden Stars), best cosmetics (Infinity), best tech (Orange). Keith especially is a regular at Sal’s, has befriended the sassiest store clerk at Orange: Katie Holt, who prefers to go by Pidge and her genius big brother Matt. They usually have their lunches at the same time, sometimes joined by Hunk from Golden Stars and Allura from Infinity. 

 

But most of the time Keith gets to take his lunch alone. All the other shops are upstairs and far busier than Kits&Pups. Keith doesn’t mind it. Sal’s has a few seats with direct view to Silver Space and to its classy, minimalist designs. Keith even spots a door opening to the backroom and another guy step out from time to time, measuring tape hanging around his neck, his long trousers a flashy blue and his grin immediately striking Keith as annoying. 

 

Silver Space has been up for a week and so far Keith hasn’t found out the names of either of the two employees: neither the Greek God or Lanky Legs. 

Quietly Keith watches them and wonders how much it would cost to get tailored by Greek God. Every customer who appears, no matter if they’re young and old, man or a woman, seems just as infatuated with the snow-haired Adonis like Keith. 

 

Except none of them have had such cheerful waves directed at him as Keith. 

 

Keith takes that as a victory. 

 

*

* 

 

Week two finally shoves Keith closer to the Adonis across the hall. Keith has been through the morning shift, hasn’t slept very well and yawns hard enough to make Kosmo whine worriedly. Keith is sleepy and grumpy enough not to notice that someone’s standing closeby before running straight into them. 

 

“Oh, careful there!”

 

Keith blinks. There are hands on his shoulders, big, absurdly warm hands. 

 

Oh God. 

 

It’s the Adonis. 

 

He’s smiling sweetly, his cheeks pink. He withdraws his hands. “I - “ He scratches his white undercut. “Uh.” The Adonis clears his throat and then abruptly kneels by Kosmo, lets him sniff his hand. “Aren’t you handsome!” 

 

Keith clears his throat. “Uh. Hi. You’re our new neighbour. I - I think my uncle Kolivan met you guys but -” 

 

Adonis scratches Kosmo’s big fluffy ears and smiles like the sun. That smile wavers when he stands up again and clears his throat too. “Oh. Yes! That big man is your uncle?” 

 

Hilarious coming from someone whose shoulders Keith would love to climb on. Whose hand engulfs Keith’s own when they shake hands. 

“Yeah. Uncle Kol owns the shop. I just help out.” Keith is painfully aware of Kosmo’s wet nose poking him into the side. Also painfully aware of his cheeks burning. “I-I’m Keith.” 

 

Adonis smiles. “I’m Shiro! Well, Takashi Shirogane but I’d rather save Mr Shirogane to my father. It’s Shiro to customers, to friends and well, neighbours.” 

 

Their handshake lasts a moment too long. 

 

Kosmo wags his tail and pokes Keith again. He startles. “Ah, oh. I didn’t forget about you, boy. This is Kosmo. He’s sorta our store mascot.” Keith rubs the back of his head. “Anyway, are you just going to work? I don’t want to make you late.” 

 

Shiro nods. “Yes. Don’t worry, buddy. I’m too early anyway so I figured I could check out a few stores. And Lance can handle himself a few moments longer. He’s a good guy but sharing an evening shift with him is sometimes exhausting.” He blushes. 

 

Keith’s insides twist into knots. He feels like he’s stepped into a pot of flaming lava. So not only is Adonis hot as fuck, he’s shy? Easily embarrassed? Keith wants to scratch his face off. 

Shiro bites his lip and runs his hand through his hair. “Lance is our intern. He kind of helps out with everything. We’re usually the ones always around. A-anyway, I don’t want to keep you if you have somewhere to go.” 

 

Keith nods. He doesn’t have anywhere to go except home to work on applications and write his blog. And take a nap. How fucking sad is that? “Maybe.. Maybe see you around.”  _ He works across from you, you dumbass.  _ Keith bites the inside of his cheek.

 

“See you around, Keith. Nice to meet you!” Shiro runs his hand through his hair again. It never stays quite as slicked back as Shiro clearly would want it to stay. He waves, sweetly enough, to both Keith and Kosmo. “Nice to meet you too, Kosmo.” 

 

So he goes. 

 

Keith watches him go. Keith groans and heads the other way. Maybe see you around? What the fuck? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you will pry this ship out of my cold dead hands so 
> 
> the chapter count is very tentative
> 
> chapter two is Shiro's side of the story


	2. baby, i'm hooked after just one look

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro pines.

There’s a reason for Shiro to like being a store clerk. For one, the staff perks. Lunch tickets. Gym tickets. He loves the controlled environment but it’s not as stifling as the Garrison used to feel: Shiro misses flying but here he is, at twenty-nine, dressed in fine suits and content at being single once more. 

  
Even if someone (read: Lance) snarks at him for being a single for year with his looks and that Shiro’s ex had been a fucking dumbass (“Trust me, I’m happily straight but man, those biceps!”). Whatever that means. 

 

Opening a Silver Space-store at Altean Mall had been the decision of the higher ups and a good one. Altean Mall is in a fairly big city, smacked right in the middle of it. Business men and women in need of suits go through here regularly, as well as anyone else needing a suit for special occasions. 

 

Suits have a specific sort of comfort to them: there are rules to them, yet enough chance to work them into as flashy and personal as possible. As their intern has already showed. Lance prefers all shades of blue and flashy, borderline childish ties. Shiro prefers ash grays and inky blacks, the only colour being the usual flash of dark purple on his tie. 

 

He knows he draws looks sometimes but he attributes them to his hair (gone white on its own accord by the time he was twenty-five, as had happened to most of his relatives) or his prosthetic (one of those things he prefers not to talk about). 

 

Shiro’s apartment across town is too big for one person so he’s been thinking of getting a pet. He usually shoves those thoughts away, wondering if a pet would just get bored with Shiro’s shifts and long hours. Shiro wouldn’t want to make a cute kitty or cute puppy lonely, after all. And he finds birds too noisy. 

He gets enough pets from Lance’s long rants about his good girl Blue: a cat of some sort of a mixed breed, can be a little devil but always notices Lance’s moods. Blue is a pretty girl, Shiro admits. 

 

Not as pretty as the guy across the hall, though. 

 

Shiro had nearly dropped his pad when he had first looked across the hall at their neighbouring store - kits & pups - and seen the side profile of the prettiest guy he’d ever seen. The guy had been wearing a purple tanktop and a flannel tied around his waist, his hair had been in a ponytail and he’d been clearly cooing at one of the biggest dogs Shiro’s ever seen. 

 

Apparently Pretty Boy is at the store more often than he isn’t. Sometimes accompanied by a chirpy blonde girl, sometimes with intimidatingly big men. Shiro sneaks a thousand glances per day and wonders if the guy could help him with his solitude-problem. 

 

It takes Lance precisely week and a half to notice Shiro’s glances. 

 

“Mullet, really?” 

 

Shiro’s cheeks go pink. He can’t even make up a lie. “I’m just interested in our neighbours,” Shiro tries. 

 

Lance pats his back. “Sure you are, leader. His hair sucks though.” He whistles as he heads to serve another customer. At least the customer service Lance is already mostly a pro at, although he is much too boisterous and over-confident to be of much true use. 

 

Shiro dreads the time when Lance gets to man the till by himself. Or God forbid, with Zethrid and Ezor. Those girls love to eat Lance alive. 

 

Shiro would love to eat the Pretty Boy. But not alive. Well. Not dead. Well. In a nice way. Fuck. 

 

*

* 

Lance requests ABBA as the background music. His request is rejected.

 

He pouts about it for approximately five hours before playing ABBA on full blast during his lunch time. He comes to work next day and claims there is a goddess working upstairs.

 

Shiro hopes both ABBA and this goddess would turn Lance’s focus off Shiro’s infatuation with Pretty Boy. 

 

It does. For some time.

 

*

*

 

Shiro has ample time to watch Pretty Boy during quiet times. Pretty Boy spends most of that time organizing shelves or tapping something at the cash register or playing with his dog. It seems like an incredibly docile wolf, following Pretty Boy everywhere, his fluffy tail banging against the shelves and floor whenever he gets ear scratches. 

 

Pretty Boy has a cute smile. 

 

Fuck. Shiro is in trouble. 

 

Then again, maybe the guy is straight and Shiro is mooning over him for nothing. Shiro’s had his fair share of crushes on straight guys and would rather not to go through that heartache again. Then again, maybe the guy hates humans or the girl who works with him occasionally is his girlfriend or he thinks people with prosthetic arms are weird or Shiro’s too old or - 

 

The excuses keep piling up until Shiro has to physically remove himself from the counter and go organize the shelves to calm himself. Like magnets, Shiro’s gaze is drawn across the hall.

 

The Pretty Boy is smiling at a customer, tucking a strand behind his ear. He’s wearing skinny black jeans today. He has really long legs. 

 

Shiro promptly goes to get himself a glass of water. He’s awfully glad when a customer arrives, asking questions about a suit for his graduation party. Shiro congratulates him, settles into Salesman Shiro-mode and rejects the pull of the Pretty Boy-magnet and his adorable possibly-a-wolf-pet. 

 

A few days later Pretty Boy nearly runs into him. 

 

Shiro’s lucky day. 

 

Except close like this, Pretty Boy is even cuter. Inwardly, Shiro sweats. Outside, he hopes his voice comes out steady. He hopes his smile is a smile and not a grimace. At least he finds out the guy’s name: Keith. Keith. Keith fits him. Keith is kind of punk rock, cute with eyes that Shiro would happily drown in and legs that he would like to - 

 

Geez, it’s really been long enough after Adam. As Shiro isn’t a type for one-night stands (he’s thought about it), he’s had to deal with a toy and his right hand. 

 

No wonder he’s fantasizing about a stranger. He hopes his thoughts aren’t showing on his face. 

 

Keith seems a little awkward, maybe a little shy. His wolf-dog licks Shiro’s hand as a goodbye, his big eyes blue and oddly intelligent. Shiro gets the feeling the dog is scrutinizing him and finding him a little suspicious.

 

Shiro watches Keith walk away.

What? 

 

He’s just a man. 

 

*

*

 

Now that Shiro has actually talked to Keith and knows his name, you would think he’d have it easier. But no. Now his treacherous, awful brain supplies him images of Keith smiling at him - just at him - and writing Keith Shirogane under the marriage certificate. Good lord. Shiro isn’t a teenager anymore. He’s been in a long, committed relationship for God’s sake. He knows better than to make a fool of himself around pretty men, right? 

 

For a week Keith and Shiro spot each other and wave. Keith’s smile is shy. Shiro hopes his own isn’t too strained. 

 

“Your taste in men is bad,” Lance huffs whenever he sees.

 

Shiro splutters.

 

Lance doesn’t need to know that Shiro is already considering of getting a pet, just to have an excuse to buy something from Kits & Pups. Lance also doesn’t need to know that Shiro really likes Keith’s eyes. And Keith’s legs. And the way Keith keeps tucking wayward strands behind his ears. 

 

Lance doesn’t need to know any of that because for the short time Shiro’s known him, Lance has managed to assert himself as the sort of a guy who loves to tease his friends endlessly. But Shiro does think Lance’s ease with socializing is a little admirable: apparently Lance had already made friends with a pastry chef upstairs and some kind of a tech wiz. 

 

There’s also the ethereal Allura, who Shiro had seen twice, floating onwards like some kind of a space princess. She’s always surrounded by her friends or someone Shiro assumes is a relative: a man with a boisterous orange moustache. 

 

She’s fairly nice. And very pretty. But even her smooth dark skin and long white hair doesn’t hold a candle to the way lights catch on Keith’s hair and eyes, gives him a glow of his own. 

 

Goddammit. Keith is so fricking pretty.


	3. Soft gazes and soft hearts

Somehow, both Shiro and Keith manage to get the same friends. It helps that Shiro knows Lance and Lance knows Allura - it helps that Keith knows Pidge from the tech shop and Hunk, the god of pastries. Someway or another, various versions of their group find themselves having lunch together. 

 

Keith and Shiro manage to not share these lunch moments, Keith preferring to take his lunch in the backroom, leaning against a snoring Kosmo and Shiro preferring to snack on a sandwich or too, claiming he’s too busy with paperwork to sit down. 

 

Their friends share looks, knowing, mischievous looks. 

 

“It’s painful to look at, is it not?” Allura says and elegantly eats her salad. Today her flowing silvery locks are in a long braid and she’s wearing lots of silver and glitter. 

 

Lance stares at her dreamily. 

 

Pidge downs yet another cup of coffee, her knee bouncing. “Damn right. You know I share my apartment with my brother, Matt, right? We have three cats so I’ve got actual reasons to go buy shit from Kits&Pups, they have a good collection… and Keith’s fucked up at the cash register three times now, only because Shiro had walked by or laughed or just existed, honestly.”

 

Lance guffaws. 

 

Hunk smiles. “He’s bought more cakes from me ever since Silver Space opened. So has Shiro. Shiro actually asked about Keith, just a sweet little inquiry in what sort of cake Keith likes. He even stuttered.” Hunk shakes his head and dives back for his burger. “It’s kind of sweet, I think.”

 

“Shiro smiles at Keith’s direction like fifteen times a day. It’s gross,” Lance pipes up. He swirls his sugary sweet mocha latte. “I knew Shiro was a disaster when it comes to romance, but holy shit.” 

 

“It is sweet,” Allura agrees sweetly, one eyebrow tilted at Lance. Lance splutters. Allura continues, undeterred: “And painful. They would be a handsome couple. And they are both good people.” She has a tea mug in front of her, of course. “And from what I gather, neither has dated in a while, yes?” 

 

The other share confirming murmurs. 

 

“Mullet needs to get laid,” Lance says. 

 

“Romance can help life feel softer,” Hunk admits. 

 

“Let’s just watch for now,” Pidge huffs. “They’re both adults, they can work this out.”

 

**

 

Shiro and Keith can’t work it out.

 

The staring increases. It worsens when Shiro actually makes his way to Kits&Pups. Lance stares from his own spot, sipping on his latte, phone in hand. Romelle makes a show of filling up the same shelves for the fifteenth time. Kosmo sits next to the counter and pants, tail banging against the counter.

 

“H-hi,” says Shiro. He’s wearing a deep red suit this time, complete with a galaxy-patterned tie. He keeps shoving his fingers through his hair, the white fringe flopping back immediately. 

 

Keith’s shoulders relax. “Hi, Shiro.” His cheeks are pink. He tucks a strand of dark hair behind his ear.

 

Shiro’s eyes follow that gesture helplessly. “H-hi, Keith.” He fidgets. Such a gesture on a such a large man shouldn’t be as endearing as it is. He stares. Keith stares. Shiro stares some more. 

 

Keith tilts his head. “What… what do you want?” He smiles, so soft. 

 

Lance mimics vomiting, right in front of a suited customer whose eyebrows climb up to his hairline. Lance doesn’t seem bothered, only huffy that his favourite entertainment is disturbed. 

 

“I- “ Shiro seems to have lost his voice. He clears his throat three times. He finds his hand being nudged by a cold nose, Kosmo letting out a soft little huff. “Hi, buddy. We haven’t met properly yet. Kosmo, right?” 

Kosmo barks once, sharply and wags his tail. Shiro laughs and rubs his big fluffy ears, then straightens, meets the patiently waiting Keith.

 

Keith’s cheeks are a deeper pink, he can feel the warmth blooming further into his body. 

“Do you … want to buy something?” He bites his lip. “Do you have a pet?” 

 

Shiro blushes too, still half-heartedly patting Kosmo who seems to have taken an instant liking to him. 

“I- uh, I - “ he licks his lips. He loosens his tie. He looks back at Lance who is once more free of a customer and who is grinning like a madman. 

 

Romelle peeks from behind the shelf and giggles, silently.

 

Keith squints at her and she vanishes with an audible giggle. “It’s okay if you don’t have a pet. Do you want one?” Keith leans over the counter. “You look like a dog person. Especially according to Kosmo.” Keith’s own shirt is dark red enough to be close to the colour of Shiro’s suit. Somehow that fact brings a surge of warmth to Keith. 

 

Shiro manages a somewhat shaky smile. It lights up his beautiful gray eyes. “Y-yes! Yes. I’d love a dog but I work such long hours that taking care of it wouldn’t be a workable solution. Maybe I should get like.. A hamster.” He moves closer, lays his palms on the counter. This way, he has to look down a little. 

 

Keith leans further over the counter, chin on his hands. “Yeah? Big guy like you, with such a little thing?” Keith’s heart thuds in his ears. These words slide off his tongue like silk, like honey. Even his ears feel warm now. “It’d be cute. They’re not that hard to deal with. You wanna… take a little tour with me? I’ll tell you more about hamsters.” Keith doesn’t withdraw before Shiro does.

 

“S-sounds good,” Shiro says, a little more squeaky than necessary. He doesn’t stop fidgeting even as Keith leads him to the small animals section, making a face at Romelle who bites her lip and quickly goes to the counter.

 

Kosmo follows the two, clearly curious. 

 

Keith doesn’t really focus on what he says, showing off a few cages, giving off a few tips. “I know a few hamster breeders. Two would be good. They could be company for each other.” Shiro listens so attentively, crosses his thick, thick arms and smiles softly. He nods at the right places, seems genuinely so interested that Keith just falls harder and harder. 

“I’ll look into it,” Shiro says, manages to look Keith straight in the eye. They’re safely tucked behind the larger dog food shelves. 

 

Keith finds his throat dry, his voice a little husky. “Y-yeah. It would be good. You could… uh - “ 

 

But what Shiro could, Keith doesn’t manage to finish. Romelle peeks from behind the shelf and clears her throat. “Sorry, Keith - uh, Shiro, was it? Your mom is here to see you.” She clicks her tongue and Kosmo follows her, after one last longing look at his owner and Shiro.

 

Keith pales. “W-wh - she wasn’t supposed to - “ he glances at the clock. “Oh sh- it’s that late?” 

 

Shiro rubs his neck. “You - just go, I’m fine here. It’s okay. I work opposite to you anyway.” Shiro grins bashfully. 

 

Keith frowns, his lower lip pushing onwards. “I just - oh, what the hell. See you later, Shiro.” His face relaxes, his smile returns, small and soft. “I mean it. It’s always nice to see you.”

 

“Same,” Shiro says. He smiles back. “Have a good day, Keith.” 

 

“Same to you,” Keith says. 

 

**

 

This is the only time they talk in weeks. Other than that, it’s just a simple hi, a hello here and there, Shiro banging his toe multiple times to the door, to the threshold, to the wall when Keith tosses his hair over his shoulder or laughs or plays with Kosmo. 

 

“You’re hopeless,” Kolivan says one particular evening, looming over a large basket of chew toys. 

Keith, in the middle of a computer inventory, blinks. Kosmo snores behind him. “Hh-huh?” 

 

Kolivan pale eyes flicker at his direction. “Hopeless. I see how you moon over that boy with the suit. When have you ever not done anything straight up, son?” 

 

Keith groans. “Shut up, uncle.” He tugs his ponytail free, shakes his hair. It falls over his shoulders, curls over his ears, on his cheeks, tickles his jaw. 

 

Kolivan looks at him again, then away from him. The corner of Kolivan’s mouth twitches, his version of a grin. “He is looking at you.” 

 

Instantly Keith freezes, slowly turns around.

 

There Shiro is, staring. Shiro’s pink cheeks can be seen from over here. Shiro waves. 

 

Keith twirls a dark strand around his finger and smiles and waves back.

 

Kolivan sighs, deep and tired. 


End file.
